


Paathshala

by avani



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, MiM Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avani/pseuds/avani
Summary: Much like every other official decree made by the university, the announcement that begins our tale was not without controversy, but as Vice Chancellor Sivagami says, they really have no choice in the matter.The time has come to act. The hostility between the Mahishmati College of Engineering and the Kuntala College for the Humanities, long-simmering for generations, has now burst into outright loathing. Students at Kuntala claim their counterparts as soulless as the mechanics they study; Mahishmati sneers back that Kuntalans are incapable of comprehending anything that isn’t abstract.





	Paathshala

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiffycups](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffycups/gifts).



Much like every other official decree made by the university, the announcement that begins our tale was not without controversy, but as Vice Chancellor Sivagami says, they really have no choice in the matter. 

The time has come to act. The hostility between the Mahishmati College of Engineering and the Kuntala College for the Humanities, long-simmering for generations, has now burst into outright loathing. Students at Kuntala claim their counterparts as soulless as the mechanics they study; Mahishmati sneers back that Kuntalans are incapable of comprehending anything that isn’t abstract. 

For years Sivagami—graduate of Mahishmati, doting mother to two of its currently enrolled students, and so not a little partial—has turned a blind eye to the goings-on. But the prospect of outright war is not so easy to ignore. Sacrifices must be made, decided Sivagami, and so decreed that it would hereby be required for students of Kuntala to take one course from their sister-college’s curriculum, and vice versa, all in the spirit of fostering intercollegiate friendships.

She could not know the trouble this would cause.

*

In fairness, the first step was out of her hands. It could instead be attributed to a particularly ill-advised dare her younger son accepted from her elder: namely, to jump the fence over into Kuntala’s grounds and report back.

It was the very beginning of a new term, after all, and ragging of the new arrivals could only be expected. Mahishmati was quite civilized about these things, only requiring its juniors to stand chin-deep in ice-cold water wearing a series of increasingly outrageous costumes while reciting the periodic table of elements backwards, but who knew what those Kuntalan barbarians might dream up?

That question was to go unanswered, however, as the instant unfriendly Kuntalan seniors advanced towards the apprehensive first-years, they were cut off by a young woman—tall, graceful, and determined—who proceeded to round on them regarding the error of their ways in preying on those that were weaker. 

Even the effects of such a splendid diatribe might not have been enough to ensure doom, had not the young woman in question then turned around to reveal a fall of long dark hair, sparkling eyes, and a smile that rivaled the warmth of the sun.

“I think I’m in love,” said Baahubali to no one in particular.

*

Sivagami is particularly gratified to find her son so in favor of her new decree.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Baahubali tells her, eyes wide and sincere. “Intercollegiate relations—um, friendships—are exactly what we need now.”

“I’m glad you feel so.” She smiles; she can always depend on him to be supportive. “As I’ve signed you up to be one of the first to take part.”

If she anticipated any reservations, it is not to be. Baahubali throws himself enthusiastically into the preparations, insisting on reviewing class rosters himself before choosing what course he will take (“so they aren’t overburdened,” he explains) before finally selecting Contract Law III.

Sivagami frowns. “Isn’t that an advanced course?”

Baahubali shrugs as casually as he can manage. “How difficult could it be?”

*

Difficult enough, apparently, that almost a month of the term goes by before he works up the nerve —and more importantly, has enough time after teaching himself the whole of Contract Law I and II—to approach Devasena.

She squints her eyes in sudden concentration when she sees him —an adorable quirk he has spent entirely too much time studying.

“I know you, don’t I?” she says. “You take Contracts with me.”

She’s noticed him! Buoyed up by this encouraging sign, Baahubali nods eagerly and finds himself still nodding, much to his horror, even as she continues: “It’s um, Shivu, isn’t it?” He means to correct her, but then she smiles at him, and it drives all coherent thought from his mind. “Er—how can I help you?”

Belatedly he stammers, “I—I’m one of the engineering students.”

“Yes, I’d noticed. However did you end up in Contracts III?”

“It was the only course open,” Baahubali lies shamelessly. “But—the thing is—I’m finding it rather more difficult than I’d expected, and I was wondering if you’d mind…tutoring me?”

Devasena bites her lip, considering, and Baahubali thinks desperately that even she should have able to hear his heartbeat drumming in his chest. “I suppose I could,” she says at last. “Would Friday afternoons work for you?”

“Yes,” Baahubali says at once. 

*

Friday afternoons mean he has to rearrange fencing practice, meetings of the Civil Engineering Society, and weekly family dinners, but it is more than worth it for the chance to watch Devasena as she attempts to explain exclusion clauses to him for the seventh time.

Being a tutee instead of a tutor is surprisingly hard work, Baahubali finds; he has to spend most of his time making a list of appropriately idiotic questions to ask ahead of time, because he certainly can’t trust himself not to produce the right answer by mistake when he’s around her. On the few occasions he slips up, however, she looks so proud of him that he honestly suspects he might be able to float all the way back to his dorm room. 

And best of all, when he makes a point to thank her for how kind she’s been to a poor struggling engineering student lost in this world of words, she looks so sympathetic that he falls in love with her all over again.

(He might be slightly less content if aware that this very comment had inspired Devasena to complain to the Vice Chancellor personally about how her short-sighted policy only made students feel even more alienated and unsure of themselves while learning information they would never again use. 

Unsurprisingly, that particular meeting goes about as well as could be expected.)

When final scores are posted, Amarendra Baahubali manages a respectable tenth rank. Devasena, of course, is class topper, and when she seeks him out, congratulating her is the first thing he thinks to say.

“Thank you,” she says, blushing a little. “I didn’t see your name, though.”

Baahubali blinks, unsure how she could have missed it, before remembering: “It was at the bottom. Very far at the bottom.” He smiles hopefully. “Maybe they’ll have me repeat the class.”

“Oh.” Devasena tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Well. I was  _ hoping _ we could have coffee together sometime, but if we’ll need to spend all our time together working on revision--”

The faintest shake of her voice betrays her, and Baahubali peers at her with equal parts suspicion and confusion. That is too much for her to withstand, and Devasena, overcome, laughs outright.

“How long have you known?” asks Baahubali resignedly, and through her chuckles, Devasena manages a shrug. 

“Almost since the very beginning, I think.” She sobers. “I am sorry about getting your name wrong--but why did you let me go on so long?”

He intends to respond with something suave and pithy, but what comes out instead is: “Because you could call me whatever you like as long it meant we could be together.” He coughs, embarrassed, and tries to salvage what he can: “Um. You were saying--Coffee?”

“All right,” says Devasena, and takes his hand.

*

When the next term begins and Devasena is among those from Kuntala selected to return the favor and take a course from Mahishmati’s curriculum, Baahubali can only assume this is a subtle blessing from his mother. He can’t remember ever feeling quite so happy as when he leads Devasena into the lecture hall for their first day of Electrical Engineering.

His girlfriend is not so sanguine. “Everyone’s staring.”

“They’re just in awe of your beauty,” Baahubali replies. “Believe me, they’re perfectly harmless.”

“Are you sure?” Devasena peers at the students in the rows before her with some trepidation. “I don’t think I like how sharp the edges on those protractors look.”

Their discussion is abruptly interrupted by the arrival of Vice Chancellor Sivagami herself, come to welcome the new Kuntalan arrivals to her alma mater. 

“Oh,” is all she says when she notices Devasena and Baahubali’s intertwined hands.

“....Oh,” Devasena says frostily, sounding every bit as unpleasantly surprised to finally meet her boyfriend’s mother.

“Oh, no,” Baahubali mutters quietly to himself.

*

“That could have been worse,” Baahubali says in his most encouraging tones.

Devasena takes another bracing gulp of tea before glaring at him. “I’ve four crucial legal courses to take this term on top of this nonsense, your mother hates me, and everything I thought I ever knew about electricity is apparently wrong. By all means, pray enlighten me as to how it could have been worse.

“I--er--” Baahubali looks wildly across the grounds for inspiration. “Look, there’s Bhalla! Let me introduce you; you’ll like him--”

*

As it turns out, Devasena does not like Bhalla at all.

Baahubali supposes he should have expected that.

*

If Baahubali had any doubts that what he felt was true love, he can be certain of it when he’s faced with Devasena at three o’clock in the morning, frustrated to the point of tears with Coulomb’s law. 

“Darling,” he says, “you do know that you only have to pass--”

Devasena raises her chin. “I have not,” she says proudly, “‘only passed’ anything in my entire life, and I do not intend to start now, Amarendra Baahubali, so help me--”

He passes her another mug of black tea. “Here’s to never sleeping again, then,” he drawls, and: “Now, the thing to remember about Coulomb’s law is that opposites attract and likes repel. See, like so….”

*

He thinks later that he should have known things were going too well to last when Mother pauses her cold war with Devasena long enough to invite her to their  _ Puthandu _ family feast. Both of them even manage to be civil and almost friendly to one another--at least until Bhalla makes the mistake of mentioning how misguided people still complained about the university’s policy of intercollegiate cooperation simply because they aren’t capable of meeting strenuous requirements themselves,  which spurs yet another fiery argument that ends in Devasena declaring that she will make a perfect mark on her final exam, come what may. 

Baahubali only has enough time to thank his mother for the lovely meal and ignore the cold shoulder she has been giving him by extension before Devasena storms out; he might find it in his heart to be angry with her if she wasn’t clearly guilty and miserable about the strife she was causing through no real fault of her own. If only Mother wasn’t bent on antagonising her every chance they found--

Devasena throws herself even more wholeheartedly into studying, and only dimly does Baahubali remember a time when she didn’t mumble formulas in her sleep. Amused, he takes it upon himself to ensure she eats three meals a day and doesn’t stagger into the wrong lecture hall by mistake when sleep-deprived. 

He breathes a sigh of relief when exams are finally over, and all the more when results come back and, true to her word, Devasena has made a perfect score--at least until she is unceremoniously dragged before the administration, accused of cheating. 

It’s a ridiculous allegation, all the more when Baahubali finds that it’s only based on Bhalla’s weaselly friend Sethupathy claiming to have witnessed Devasena purchasing an illicit copy of the exam paper a day prior and a scanned copy of said paper found on Devasena’s laptop, but Mother doesn’t seem to want to listen to a word that Devasena says in her defense. Likely it doesn’t help that Baahubali, losing his patience after Sethupathy makes one innuendo too many, punches him in the midst of the proceedings. 

Still, he thinks it’s possible that Mother may have overreacted somewhat.

*

“Academic suspension,” Devasena moans, “with expulsion not yet ruled out. You know what that means, don’t you?”

He does. She doesn’t seem to expect an answer, however, before going on in a rush.

“No degree, no references, no job, no  _ prospects! _ What are we to do then?”

“I don’t know,” replies Baahubali, more calmly than he would have expected. “But it could be worse, you know.”

Devasena stares at him, horrified. “Worse? By all means, pray enlighten me how--actually, don’t, no good ever comes of that--”

Baahubali ignores the barb. “Well--we’re together, aren’t we?” he says simply, and Devasena’s expression softens. 

“Yes.” She rests her head on his shoulder. “We are.”

*

When the doorbell rings, they both jump guiltily. It’s not the dean of students come to announce their immediate expulsions, however, but instead:

“Bhalla?!”

Baahubali’s brother grunts. “Hold this,” he instructs gruffly, pressing his computer into Baahubali’s arms and a takeout bag full of food into Devasena’s. 

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” Devasena demands, setting the bag down on the counter so she can rest her hands on her hips. 

“I might have known,” Bhalla says, ignoring her, “that you two would be sitting around bewailing your fates instead of taking action. You’re lucky you have me.”

And with that, he sits down on the couch between them, frowning as he types away on Devasena’s laptop and absently calling: “Help yourself to the food, it’s not poisoned!” 

“I might,” Devasena admits begrudgingly, “have to change my opinion of your brother.”

*

Baahubali’s favorite memory of the days that follow is not listening to the administrative board’s copious apologies for any misunderstanding. Nor is it watching Sethupathy’s undignified expulsion for his crimes, or even the sight of Mother ruefully extending her hand to Devasena with genuine contrition. 

Instead, it’s much later, when Devasena sidles up to him, mumbling something he’s certain he can’t have heard correctly.

“What?”

“I said,” Devasena says through a scowl, “that I’m signed up to take Electrical Engineering II next term. I can’t imagine why. All that studying must have driven me mad.”

“Oh,” says Baahubali. “Is this not the moment to admit I’m taking Contracts IV?”

In the end, all they can do is laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> * Paathshala - school/university  
> * Baahu and Devasena's first meeting is stolen shamelessly from Lois Lane and Clark Kent's in Mark Waid's _Birthright_ series, down to the heroine defending others from bullies and "...I think I'm in love." I simply couldn't think of anything else that would work so well for establishing our couple quickly, and I admit the homage to another of my OTPs amused me.  
>  * Most of you will recognize that the university featured here in equal parts based on the Indian system, the US/Canadian system, and some bizarre system that makes no sense at all. I hope you can suspend your disbelief, or at least imagine that whatever strange country this is set in has a very, very strange system of higher education.


End file.
